Ugly Cars and Flying Predators

Even though I’m obsessing about this crap, I try not to write about it too much. ‘Cause I know you guys don’t really give a tiny cashew-shaped shitlet – and rightly so. But this new site is giving me a case of the recta-hives.

Well, not the new site, exactly… More specifically, the way the new site works with the old one. My idea was to integrate the two, take advantage of the superior WordPress attributes for the daily updates, but still use FrontPage for the Smoking Fish gallery, and things like this. Even though FP sucks overall, it does do a few things well.

But I couldn’t get them to work together. I don’t know if it’s jealousy, or paranoia, or what, but they just don’t like each other. I hope not too many of you saw it, but last week the bunker cam threw a hissy-fit and turned into nothing but a HUGE collection of random letters and numbers and lightning bolts. Wotta mess.

Also, I had two homepages for a while, and it confused (or as one of my Little League coaches used to say, cornfused) Google. The old page was still receiving a lot of traffic, because of the “home” links at the bottom of every freakin’ update, and my stats were being split and diluted.

Consequently, our Google overlords demoted the Surf Report from a PageRank of five, down to a three. Which means we’re less “reliable” now, and will be listed lower in search results. And I can’t have that.

But, I’m working on all this stuff, and will get the bugs hammered out of it soon. In fact, I think I’ve finally unlocked the mystery of the FrontPage situation, and it’s working at the moment. If it continues to cooperate, I’ll have a metric shitload of great new Smoking Fish sightings to share with you on Monday.

Also, I’m using the old bunker cam page again, for sentimental reasons. What do you think, this or this? Is there a preference?

Over the weekend I’m planning to build an easy index that can be used to navigate the FrontPage archives, which are pretty much hidden at this point. And someday soon I’m confident I’ll be able to devote my full attention to The Ridiculousness again.

Thanks for your patience.

Yesterday I invested 12 British pounds ($22.03) in six months worth of access to the Clive Bullshow archives. Since I started my “new” job (coming up on a year already), I haven’t been able to listen to Clive, and really miss it.

So, I paid the money, downloaded his show from Wednesday night, and listened to the whole thing at work yesterday. It was great.

Have you ever paid cash-money for access to a radio show archive? Or the members-only section of a website? I used to pay Phil Hendrie $6.95 per month, but he stopped adding the material I wanted, so I quit. What about you? Is there anything worth it?

Last night I found myself locked into some kind of perpetual pee-loop with another man at work. Are you familiar with this phenomenon? You get into a pee-pattern that directly corresponds with someone else’s? I don’t care for it.

In fact, I tried to break out of it by ingesting large amounts of liquids. I thought I’d be able to force myself into a new sequence, and away from my accidental piss-partner.

But it didn’t work. Either he had the same idea, or his bladder sensed the adjustment I’d made, and took action.

It was disturbing. And since he was always the first to enter the bathroom (the cycles were off by roughly thirty seconds), I worried he might believe I was stalking him, and trying to catch a glimpse or something.

No, as far as I can tell, nothing good can come from a case of pissronicity. I was glad when they let us go home, where I could whizz freely and without fear of generating whispered rumors at the Kit Kat machine.

And something very strange just happened to me. Between the pee piece and now, Toney and I went to Scranton to get the propane tank filled, and stopped at a local yuppie bar on our way home.

And not that it has anything to do with the story, but we had two pints of Sierra Nevada each – and the tab was only ten bucks. Man, that’s simply excellent… Must’ve been happy hour.

Anyway, when we got home I went inside and dropped my keys and crap, and returned to the car for the tank. And while I was walking toward the front door some kind of insect swooped from the sky, and stung me on the back of the head!

What the hell, man?? It slammed into my noggin, hitting it with great force. And almost immediately I felt the old familiar pain, a memory from childhood. I’d been stung by something predatory, with a big ol’ chip on its waspy shoulder.

Shit, I’d been minding my own business; I wasn’t bothering anyone. It’s a wonder I didn’t go cascading down the stairs.

As I entered the house I was squealing like a retard at a roller derby, and Toney asked what was wrong. When I told her, her face contorted with the effort of trying to hold back laughter. And this is funny, a man innocently walking down a sidewalk, and being poisoned from the sky? This is what passes for comedy now??

Toney gave me an ice pack from the freezer, and I held it to the back of my head. But she kept going into the kitchen, where I think she was secretly using a loaf of French bread as a laugh-muffler. Unbelievable.

Now I’ve got a big ol’ knot on the back of my head, and I don’t feel quite right. I suspect I’ve been infected with something, and will eventually end up like this.

What would just dive from the sky, stinger-first, aiming at the back of someone’s head? I’ve never even heard of such a thing. What is this, Africa??

I bet hair will start falling out of the knot, by midnight. And then where will I be? I probably won’t even be able to go to Sam’s Club for my Saturday hotdog feed.

How long has it been since you’ve been stung by an insect? I think I was sixteen the last time it happened to me. And maybe someday I’ll tell that story as well… It was also traumatic.

And I’ll leave you now with a question from the Stealing Clive Bull’s Topics desk: what do you think is the ugliest car, currently in production? What’s your opinion on that one?

I’d give you mine, but I’m getting a little woozy here. You know, from the bat-bite, or whatever.

Comments

* A lot o’ people don’t realize what’s really going on.
They view life as a bunch o’ unconnected incidents ‘n things. They don’t realize that there’s this, like, lattice o’ coincidence that lays on top o’ everything.
Give you an example; show you what I mean: suppose you’re thinkin’ about a plate o’ shrimp.
Suddenly someone’ll say, like, “plate,” or “shrimp,” or “plate o’ shrimp” out of the blue, no explanation.
No point in lookin’ for one, either. It’s all part of a cosmic unconsciousness.

First… yes, I have one… in solid dark blue (none of those cheezy plastic black panels). I guess I can’t argue with “eye of the beholder” but… the headroom in these cars is amazing, and you can fold up or remove the seats and turn the car into a… milk cart, able to hold anything.

Ok Sven….I’ll downgrade my opnion to a category ‘goofy looking’. Honda makes a great product. Bev (mrs. O) had an ’80 Accord (super runner, super clean/ was her Dad’s) until and old guy confused the gas for the brake and slam bam thank you ma’am.

Just read that the PTC and the Sicon are in the top five of holding their resale value. Go figure.

Last summer, my only ride was a Yamaha 550 motorcycle (still have it, but it’s just for fun now). I was riding home from work and something flew up the sleeve of my leather jacket, which has a mesh liner and all kinds of zippered vents. She got between the leather and the mesh, and I kept beating on my arm to smush it, but never did find it, even though I jumped off the bike in a parking lot, whipped off my jacket and beat it against the pavement. 8 stings on the underside of my forearm. That sucked out loud.

Years ago, working construction, I had a McDonald’s cup full of water that I kept on my sawhorses. I came back for a sip, and felt something on my tongue. Then it started pinching me. On the tongue. It was an earwig. I spit, stomped, and flailed around for several minutes. I never drink from a straw without looking down the barrel first.

Finally, I was out on a date with my girlfriend and we went for a walk in a park. We sat down on the lawn to look at the moon (and stuff), when I felt a burning sensation on my arm. It didn’t go away, so after several minutes we got up, went to a streetlight, and saw a pair of angry red fang marks in my flesh. I must have put my arm right on top of a big spider, ’cause the fang marks were about 1/4″ apart.

I hate the PT Cruiser, it is probably the most rediculous car I’ve ever seen.

As for the Scion xB, I love that damn car. I’ve been driving one for almost 2 years and it is the best car that I’ve ever driven at unsafe speeds. Sure, it has the motor of a pine wood derby car, but at least it looks like the drawings I drew of my school bus when I was 4. Seriously, as ugly as people think it is, it really picks up the ladies. Plus, it’s kind of fun to call my car “The Sex-Box”.

As for bees and wasps, I don’t trust the fuckers. I was mowing the lawn one time and ran over a nest of ground wasps… worst day ever. I had to have my mom pick me up because I could not physically drive my car home. I guess thats what 4 stings to the left ankle and 6 to the right will do to you.

a couple months ago, i got stung by something on the inside of my wrist, which stung a little but really itched all the way around like a bracelet. i never figured out what that was.

last summer, when i was hanging out with my friend’s 4 year old, and i stepped on a ground wasp. stung right in the instep, but of course i didn’t want her to freak out, and i couldn’t say any of the choice words i wanted to. i think my tongue hurt just as much as my foot…

Was pulling weeds and angered some nest of evil stinging bee/wasp things. Didn’t even know they were striking for a minute. Out of nowhere my legs feel like they are on fire and I look down and there are 10 of them angrily stinging me. Bastards. Now I am a big wuss and don’t go to that part of the yard.

I thought I was the only one out there. My kids have teased me for years because at about 9:00 p.m. it’s time for the ‘Whistler.’ Similarly, give me a Jack Benny or Gildersleeve episode and I’m a happy girl. My IPod is a weird, I mean, eclectic mish-mash of media that I can’t even describe.

So far, I’ve never been bitten by any bees, wasps, or hornets so I don’t know the pain or if I’m allergic. The husband is deathly allergic to these guys and has to carry around an epi pen. So, what are the odds that the offspring is allegic to stings too???

Last time I was stung was while riding my motorcycle down an interstate highway at about, let’s say 70 mph. I felt something hit the top of my chest, where my shirt was open. Next thing I know I’m getting stung repeatedly on my stomach. So while trying to stay in my lane (thankfully not much traffic) and slow down I’m grabbing fistfulls of my lower shirts trying to strangle a bee. The stinging stopped, but I didn’t know if he was dead or just Mike Myers dead, so the rest of the ride I kept grabbing shirt and waiting for the resurrection, while dealing with the pain of what turned out to be five stings. When I examined my stomach I also found the culprit, a yellow jacket with a smirk on his face. I thoroughly enjoyed stomping on the already dead little fucker.

“I bet hair will start falling out of the knot, by midnight. And then where will I be?”

First Andy’s butt and now this. When the hair falls off the back of Jeff’s head, will the family be able to tell them apart (from behind)?

The Aztec is the ugliest vehicle mentioned but is thankfully no longer in production. The original Honda Element (and Chevrolet Avalanche for that matter) with the gray plastic cladding were hideous. The newer versions, with body coloured bumpers are better. We don’t see many Scion’s here in Canada. I don’t mind the PT Cruiser’s looks but I wouldn’t really want to drive one based on the Neon mechanicals. Toyota’s Echo has terrible exterior proportions but I actually like the FJ Cruiser.